Valentine's Day
by Tessabug-chan
Summary: Yes, I realise Valentine's Day is long gone. Harry receives an anonymous valentine and pointless fluff ensues. Slash be here.


Before anyone hits me with a big stick for this indescribable shite, I'd just like to blame O.L.A. and her fluff obsession for this entire thing. Thankyou for your attention, you may proceed to hurt me.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything relating to it. I think there's someone in the world taking pleasure in my depression caused by saying that. *sigh*  
  
~Harry's thoughts~  
  
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Valentines Day  
  
In a flurry of snowy feathers, Hedwig swooped down over the Griffindor table, dropped an envelope in front of Harry Potter and then proceeded to steal his bacon.  
  
"Oooh, Harry! You've got a Valentine! Who's it from?" squealed Lavender Brown loudly, dissolving into high-pitched giggles.  
  
~Valentine?~  
  
Harry glanced at Hermione's paper and sure enough, the date read: February 14th  
  
~Oh.~  
  
Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes behind her copy of The Daily Prophet and take another bite of toast.  
  
With mild interest he slit the letter open and pulled out a small slip of parchment and a single white rose. Now he was very interested, not to mention more perplexed then if someone had hit him with a Confundus Charm. Hermione stopped feigning indifference and peeped over the top of her newspaper. Harry ignored her and read what was written on the parchment in an unrecognisable slanted hand.  
  
Harry,  
  
The day I met you was the day I fell for you. And I'm still falling. It tears me in two, knowing that you will never love me back, but I can't change the way I feel about you.  
  
I love you.  
  
Happy Valentines Day  
  
Satisfied by a job well done, Hedwig hooted and departed, soaring away through one of the high windows in the Great Hall. Harry didn't notice. Everything around him seemed blurred, except the strange writing on the parchment. Who could have sent it to him?  
  
~What if it's... nah. Don't be a tosser. That's impossible. Dear God, you need a reality check.~  
  
His eyes darted around the Griffindor table, but none of the girls seemed to be particularly concerned with him. Cho? But she didn't like him anymore, did she? His mind raced, all but panicking. He chanced a glance over at the Ravenclaw table and was relieved to find her wrapped around Roger Davies, running her fingers through his hair with a rapt expression on her face.  
  
~Ok then, not Cho.~  
  
Could it be Malfoy, who sent it as a practical joke? But his silver-blonde head was turned away, his eyes not fixed on Harry, waiting for his reaction.  
  
~Right, scratch Malfoy and his sick sense of humour.~  
  
A fleeting thought crossed his mind but before he could figuratively squash it into the proverbial pulp, it was running around his mind, scaring him no end.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"Who sent that to you?" she asked curiously, eyeing the rose with great interest. Harry immediately felt very stupid for even thinking that it could have been Hermione who had sent the letter.  
  
"Dunno."  
  
"Hmmm..." With that she turned back to her paper.  
  
Harry felt himself grow very hot, and felt for sure that he was going bright red.  
  
"Well, I need to get my... er, books, yeah. See you in Transfiguration." He took a last gulp of orange juice and strode out of the Hall, up the marble staircase and didn't stop walking until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. He knew very well whom he hoped the letter was from, but that was even more improbable then Hermione.  
  
~Stop hoping, it'll never happen.~  
  
He stood for a moment, contemplating the letter clutched in his right hand and the rose in his left. The Fat Lady cleared her throat.  
  
"Oh, yeah, Cupidus Arcus"  
  
"Took your time, dear." said the Fat Lady, swinging forward while selecting a chocolate from a red satin box.  
  
Harry was pleased to find the Common Room empty and immediately flopped down onto a squashy armchair. Now he could think in peace. He twirled the rose in his fingers and clumsily pricked his finger, adding pain to his confusion. He stuck his finger in his mouth.  
  
~Whoever sent that definitely does not want me to know who they are. Is it even someone inside Hogwarts?~  
  
He immediately felt that that particular thought deserved a mental slap. He didn't KNOW any girls outside Hogwarts. The impossible idea that had occurred to him earlier was just beginning to resurface...  
  
"Hey Harry, you know that letter you got at breakfast? I sent it, and I meant every word... and I really fancy you and... bloody hell, I sound like such a wanker..."  
  
Harry nearly choked on his finger. Taking it out of his mouth, he sunk low into the chair and tried to breathe. Ron continued to talk to himself, oblivious of his audience.  
  
"Harry, mate, you know those really weird dreams where you... ach...uhm, Harry, I'd really appreciate it if you'd snog me. Right now. Cheers." The sound of footsteps grew closer.  
  
~No fucking way...~  
  
"Harry, I love you." Ron fell silent and walked straight past Harry, unseeing and shaking his head.  
  
~I love you too.~  
  
Ron was halfway to the portrait hole when Harry's brain, which had been previously motionless, finally kicked back into action. Abandoning all sense, Harry stood up.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
Hearing his name, Ron froze in his tracks. He turned slowly, his face showing a mixture of fear, guilt and something else that couldn't be placed. There was silence for a moment.  
  
"Uh, hey Harry?"  
  
"Do you mean it?" Harry's voice came out sounding very strange. The Common Room seemed to be devoid of air. Ron's expression changed to one of someone finally accepting their fate.  
  
~Please God, if you're listening, let him say...~  
  
"Yeah. I mean it. Go on, then. Hate me."  
  
Harry crossed the room swiftly, dodging armchairs and stopped directly in front of Ron, who flinched as though Harry was about to hit him.  
  
"I don't hate you." he said softly.  
  
"You don't?" asked Ron breathlessly, his sky-blue eyes wide. Harry took another step which brought him close enough to count the freckles on Ron's nose.  
  
Azure met emerald.  
  
"No."  
  
Tentatively, Harry reached out and stroked the taller boy's cheek with his fingertips. Ron shivered, as though cold. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but exactly what, Harry didn't discover, for at that exact moment, he lent forward, twined his arms about Ron's neck and their lips met. For a moment both the boys were still as time stopped. Ron ran his tongue over Harry's lips, and Harry instinctively opened his mouth. He has wanted this for so long, to feel Ron's velvet tongue against his own; to taste the inexpressible sweetness of his lips... The torrent of emotions that flooded his body threatened to make his knees give way.  
  
~Oh. My. God.~  
  
Finally, Ron drew away, gasping, his ears pink.  
  
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."  
  
"Well, actually, I do."  
  
Ron beamed and gathered Harry back into his arms. Being nearly a head shorter, Harry contented himself by snuggling into the crook of Ron's neck. The white rose lay forgotten on the floor.  
  
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Fin.  
  
~Tessabug-chan~ 


End file.
